


Champagne

by ToyBoxOfSuz



Series: The Aconitum [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst, Brothels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Unrequited Love, brothel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyBoxOfSuz/pseuds/ToyBoxOfSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Aconitum’s policy: never fall in love. So it's pretty ironic that none of the owners are following their own rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Champagne

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea about an AU with a brothel house owned by Stiles and Lydia. So I decided to turn it into a series.
> 
> There isn't much plot just scenes I want to get off my chest. Enjoy!
> 
> Not betaed.

Stiles gnawed on his lips as he locked the door. Then he went back to the table where the perfectly chilled champagne was waiting to be consumed. It was one of their most expensive champagne. But tonight, this bottle won’t go to the guests, but stays with them; with the owners of the _Aconitum_.

He picked up the bottle and filled two glasses with the golden, sparkling liquid with ever too practiced movements. Stiles liked to drink alcohol, he enjoyed the flavor and he liked to say he had a fine taste for it too. But he started to hate champagne. Exactly because of the current situation. They always drank champagne when they talked.

Lydia was silent. Stiles sighed softly and took one of the glasses to bring it to her, but he stopped for a moment. To just look at her, to just _adore_ her. She was standing by the window, looking down at the city lights. She looked like she was the queen of the world and Stiles knew she was close to it. She was almost a queen. She had power, and strength to do what _ever_ she wanted in this life. She was smart, beautiful, charismatic, everything a man would need, Stiles wondered.

There was only one thing, though, which she never ever could grasp, no matter how hard she tried. No matter how desperate she was longing for it. It always escaped her.

The Aconitum’s policy was to _never fall in love_. That was the most important thing. It sounded cliché, yes. It was overdramatic, yes. Some of the employees were laughing about it. But when it really came down to it, it was true. Never fall in love, _for your own sake_. It was slightly ironic how the owners were the ones who suffered from this sickness the most.

Lydia’s back looked too familiarly lonely. Stiles had seen that stance, that eerie tension in her shoulders and her lowered chin too many times. She was in quiet despair. Only one thing, just one thing could make her lose every jewel, every smile, every attributes of a queen: unrequited love.

Stiles slowly walked closer to her, offering the glass of champagne. His chest tightened over how damn familiar all this was and how it never got easier. Also, he knew exactly how Lydia felt, because he was in love too. With Lydia. How ironic. They were running the best brothel in the country, maybe even the world and they both abused their very first and most important rule.

Never fall in love.

Stiles would laugh about it, but not now. They were both neck deep in this and the only way they could stay on the surface was to grasp into each other. Because there was no one else to help.

“What did he do this time?” Stiles couldn’t help but ask, staring at Lydia’s perfect profile as she was still gazing through the glass window that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. She looked down at the city by her feet. A stray strawberry blonde lock brushing against her fair cheek and Stiles had the urge to reach out and smooth it behind her soft ear. But he didn’t do it. The quiver of her perfect pink lips showed she was seconds from crying.

“He’ll leave.” she whispered.

Stiles’ anger rose. That prick Jackson Whittermore could always find something to hurt Lydia. And the worst thing was that he didn’t even have to try hard.

“He’s just teasing. Like last time.” Stiles spoke. His voice was quiet and soft despite the urge to kill the rich heir of the Kanima Corps. It wasn’t healthy how often he’s gotten these boiling emotions especially around Lydia. She could make him kill a man, and they both knew they would get away with it. They would get away with _anything_.

“No.” Lydia said, and her beautifully wide eyes turned toward him, wanting to make Stiles drop on his knees and beg for love, for mercy. “He’ll leave. Forever.”

“What do you mean he’ll leave?” he asked.

“He’s getting married.” Lydia said, surprisingly simply. Stiles felt the air knocked out of his lungs. While marriage didn’t really count inside their walls, it damn counted when it was Jackson and Lydia. “He’ll leave the States. Going to live in London. He arranged his last appointment for next week, and that’s it. He’ll stop using our services.”

‘ _He’ll stop using me._ ’ Stiles could hear Lydia’s silent words behind that sentence.

Lydia was one of the owners, yes, but that didn’t stop her to service the people who she wanted. Lately, she only serviced the Whittermore brat and Stiles had a bad feeling that maybe it was part of the problem.

“He said it was my fault.” Lydia continued quietly turning her gaze back to the city, her hand with the glass shivered a little. Stiles wanted to reach out and hold it but it wasn’t his turn now. “He said if I wouldn’t—“

“He was lying.” Stiles bit out in a low voice. “You did nothing wrong.” he whispered the sweet lie, for both of their sake, and he could see Lydia being thankful for it.

Neither of them were disillusioned, they knew what kind of life they were living. But when they were alone, in their own little world they sometimes whispered sweet nothings, sugar coated lies to each other’s ear and they loved it. They could pretend they believe it, and just for a little while, they really did. For a little time, they could pretend everything was pink and soft and doves. And that’s supposed to be enough.

“He left me, Stiles.” Lydia’s words hurt like nothing else. She was broken and empty and Stiles wasn’t sure if she will ever be the same again.

Lydia was a strong and independent woman. But she was just _human_ , and she made mistakes. And those few mistakes caused her downfall. Stiles was there to catch her but he knew he won’t be able to save her queen but he’ll be able to keep her alive and that was important. Because maybe, just maybe, in the future, things could change. Her kingdom could rise from the ashes and she could shine again just like before. That stupid thing called hope was always there. Hope made their lives even more miserable. Hope made them whisper in the dark about a future, about love, and a life that wasn’t filled with despair and loneliness.

The nights when Lydia was hurt by Jackson, Stiles always wondered how someone like her could fall so badly, just because of love. She was weak, devastated, just a shell of herself when it came to Jackson. Maybe he should be the last person to believe in the power of love while he was running a brothel, but he still believed it. Because he saw it every day, he could touch it, taste it on his tongue… the power of love. The _destructive_ power of love.

It wasn’t the first time Jackson hurt Lydia. It was a routine now. Once in a while Lydia would end up tired of all of it and those days they got Aconitum’s best room and spent a night together. Lydia would slowly talk to Stiles about Jackson, mostly, they would drink champagne, order seafood, then drink more champagne. Then Lydia would start crying, and Stiles would hold her tight and strong, whispering how he loves her over and over again.

These nights weren’t doing good for either of them, but it could make them _go on_.

This night, too, Stiles fell into the routine and offered champagne and laid out the whole ‘How to kill Jackson Whittermore’ plan to Lydia. She would say nothing during this. But tonight was different, Stiles could feel it. Lydia was hurt beyond repair. And Stiles had to turn to desperate methods.

“He never deserved you. He was just a little stuck-up brat, Lydia.” he started, almost pleading as he stepped closer. He pleaded for Lydia to be okay, because he won’t be able to go on alone. She might never love him back but at least she was with him, and that was the most Stiles could ask for.

Lydia didn’t answer. She closed her eyes and moved his glass to drink her champagne. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, but she wasn’t crying, she couldn’t anymore.

“Lydia…” Stiles whimpered and reached out to finally touch her silky hair. She was so warm, so lively, so beautiful… even when she was broken. A dark part of him also adored how utterly breathtaking she was with her wide, tear filled eyes and empty doll-like expression. There was beauty in hopelessness too.

She turned to him again, and Stiles’ stomach dropped. She had the gaze of a murderer. Question was, who will be the victim?

And then Stiles heard his real name. It dropped from her lips as a god damn spell, making him immobile. She said nothing else, but Stiles knew what she wanted. She didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to cry, she was sick of all that, she was sick of everything. She wanted distraction, and he was glad to provide it to her. She knew his feelings toward her and she never used them against him, until this day. But Lydia knew she will get away with it, she knew that Stiles will give her everything she wanted right now, and she was ready to take it all.

She decided that if she falls, she will make him fall with her.

Stiles was the one closing the small distance between them, and kissed Lydia. And he kissed him many more times that night, all over her body.


End file.
